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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=359140" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>King Cophetua The First</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Said Jove within himself one day,<br>‘I'll make me a mistress out of clay!<br>These ninefold spheres of chiming quires,<br>Though little things and therefore sweet,<br>Too Godlike are for my desires:<br>My pleasure still is incomplete.<br>The gust of love is mystery,<br>Which poorly yet the heavens supply. <br>Now where may God for mystery seek<br>Save in the earthly, small, and weak?<br>My work, then, let me crown and end<br>With what I ne'er shall comprehend!’<br>And so the unfathomable Need,<br>Hell's mock, Heaven's pity, was decreed.<br>And, with perversity immense<br>As all his other affluence,<br>Jove left his wondering Court behind<br>And Juno's almost equal mind,<br>On low and little Earth to seek<br>That vessel infinitely weak,<br>(The abler for the infinite honour<br>He hugely long'd to put upon her,)<br>And, in a melancholy grove,<br>Found sighing his predestined Love,<br>A pretty, foolish, pensive maid,<br>The least of heaven-related things,<br>Of every boy and beast afraid,<br>But not of him, the King of Kings.<br>He look'd so measurelessly mild,<br>And so he flatter'd her, poor child,<br>By lifting with respect her hand<br>To his salute benign and grand,<br>That, when he spoke, and begged to be<br>Instructed in her wishes, she,<br>Having a modest minute tarried,<br>Lisp'd, ‘I should like, Sire, to be married.’<br>But, when he smiling ask'd, ‘Whom to?’<br>She blush'd and said, she scarcely knew.<br>Then Jove named Shepherds, Lords, and Kings<br>To her free choice; for all such things<br>Were his and his to give; but these<br>She shook her curls at. ‘Hard to please<br>Is my small Cousin, but my nod<br>Shall call from heaven some splendid God—’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Ah, Maker mine, no God will do<br>That's not as great a God as you!’<br>Thereat Jove laugh'd: ‘As least of things<br>Alone can sate the King of Kings,<br>So the least thing, it seems, that I<br>Alone of Gods can satisfy!’<br>And, fading in her flushing arms,<br>He blazed for ever from her charms.<br>Thenceforth the maiden sang and shone,<br>Admired by all and woo'd by none,<br>For, though she said she was a sinner,<br>'Twas clear to all that Jove was in her,<br>And, but for that deep pagan night,<br>She would have been a Carmelite.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Coventry+Patmore">Coventry Patmore</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=359140" data-title="King Cophetua The First de Coventry Patmore" data-description="Said Jove within himself one day,
‘I'll make me a mistress out of clay!
These ninefold spheres of chiming quires,
Though little things and therefore sweet,
Too Godlike are for my desires:
My pleasure still is incomplete.
The gust of love is myst..."></div>
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